'When even the sheriff's department won't commit to whether they're certain the boy wasn't accidentally drowned? Sorry, I'd like to help Eve Duncan, but there's no-'
'I'll give you the location of Nortano's weapons cache near Bogota. You've been looking for it for the last four years.'
There was silence at the other end of the connection. 'You son of a bitch.'
'That little boy was reported missing after Kistle showed up in Bloomburg.'
'I know. I know. Bobby Joe Windlaw,' Venable said. 'No body. Cassidy says that everyone thought he drowned in the river. His shirt and shoes were found on the riverbank.'
'Kistle shows up. The little boy disappears. I don't believe in coincidences.'
'No body,' Venable repeated. 'Find the boy's body and then come back to me.'
'No, you do it and come back to me. I'm not the one who wants Nortano's weapons.'
Venable muttered a curse. 'I thought you'd walked away from that life.'
'I have, but that doesn't mean I don't know the value of an ace in the hole. Stall Cassidy until you can find a way to locate Bobby Joe's body.'
'Cassidy won't help until he's ordered to do it. He'll call it a wild-goose chase.'
'Then that leaves it up to you, doesn't it?'
'I'm CIA, dammit. We're talking about jurisdiction. You know we're supposed to operate only outside the country.'
'And the CIA never does anything but exactly what it's supposed to do, never steps on anyone's toes? I'm not asking you to join in the hunt for Kistle. But the boy's body has to be found and it has to be done quickly. If the FBI is called into the boy's case, then they'll have to go after Kistle as a possible suspect.'
'And give you the FBI presence you want in Clayborne Forest. I'll see what I can do.' Venable hung up.
Montalvo put away his phone and got out of the car and moved toward the forest. He didn't doubt Venable would do everything he could. He was smart and experienced and the bribe Montalvo had dangled in front of him would be tempting enough to be nearly irresistible.
In the meantime, he'd do a little scouting of his own and hope those nervous deputies didn't take potshots at him. He could feel his pulse begin to quicken as his gaze fastened on the trees. Kistle was there. He wasn't trying to run. He was waiting. The prey was armed and dangerous and wanted to kill the hunter. It was the game Montalvo liked most. He couldn't blame Miguel for being disappointed that he'd made him stay at the hotel. Miguel understood the game.
And so did Joe Quinn, he thought suddenly.
Quinn had felt the same heady excitement Montalvo was feeling. He had seen it in his expression this afternoon. They were alike in that, if nothing else.
Except for their feelings for Eve. Yet even in that emotion they could not be more different. Quinn was the keeper of the castle, familiar with every battlement, and had the advantage of a passionate desire to keep what was his. Montalvo was the enemy at the gates who had nothing to lose and everything to win.
And Kistle might be the battering ram that would be the deciding weapon.
He melted into the shrubbery and began moving toward the distant trees.
Come on, Kistle. Let's get this battle started.
VENABLE LEANED BACK IN HIS chair after he'd hung up his phone. Dammit, Montalvo was twisting his arm and he wanted to tell him to go take a hike. If there was one thing he hated, it was getting into jurisdictional squabbles with other law enforcement agencies. It made him look ruthless and antagonized the organization he was riding roughshod over. He didn't want to make an enemy of the boys at Quantico. In his world you never knew when you were going to need a favor. Montalvo shouldn't have put him in this position.
Nortano's weapons cache.
God, he wanted to clean that bastard out. Nortano had been a thorn in the Colombian government's side for years and Venable's agents would have a safer path if he could be removed.
And if Montalvo said he'd give him the information, he would do it. He'd never reneged on a bargain in the years he'd known him.
Okay, the decision was made. He had to have Nortano's cache. How to go about getting it without obviously compromising the Company's jurisdiction?
Bobby Joe Windlaw. Find his body. Montalvo was right: if the kid had been murdered, then he had an excuse to draw the FBI back into the picture. If Bobby Joe had drowned, Montalvo would still have to agree that Venable had completed his part of the bargain.
All right, how to find Bobby Joe. Think. Make a plan. Keep it from looking like interference. He'd done this kind of sleight of hand before. It was just more difficult on U.S. soil. He'd call in any favors he could draw on and beg, borrow, and steal if he had to. Now who could do the job in the way he wanted it done?
He suddenly stiffened in shock in his chair as the answer came to him. 'Holy shit.'
He reached for his phone.
FIVE
'DO YOU MIND IF I USE YOUR bathroom?' Joe asked Eve after the door had closed behind them. 'I need to clean up. You don't want me touching anything in this room. I've been out in the woods all day.'
'Go ahead.' Eve watched him as he moved across the bedroom. 'But I thought it might be your bathroom too. You're not staying with me?'
'I've got a room on the next floor.' Joe turned on the water faucet. 'It will be more convenient.'
Eve stood in the bathroom doorway watching him as he took off his shirt and began to scrub. 'Convenient for what?'
'I'll be in and out at all hours of the day and night. I don't want to disturb you.'
'What the hell do you mean? I
'I thought it best.' He took the towel and began to dry off. 'You're upset enough without me-'
'Bullshit,' she said. 'Get rid of that towel and talk to me. You've been closing me out since you got on that plane to come here. Disturbed? You're the one who's ready to explode. You can't even look at me.'
'Oh, I can look at you.' He threw the towel away. 'But I don't want to talk. Tell me what I want to do, Eve.'
His dark hair was tousled and his brown eyes were glittering in his taut face. He was half naked and his shoulders gleamed under the lights. His body was lean and tough and sleek with muscle. She could feel his tenseness, which was like a bolt of electricity. Lord, it was striking at her, stroking her, readying her. 'I'm not sure,' she said unevenly. 'Sex. But do you want to make love to me or do you want to rape me?'
'When have I ever raped you?'
'Never. But then I've never seen you in a mood like this.'
'I've never been in a mood like this.' He started toward her. 'And I may be rough. I don't know if I can help myself. So if you don't want me, tell me now.'
He wasn't touching her, but she could feel the heat move through her. It was a mindless response. They were so far apart emotionally that she should try to ignore it and try to talk to him.
She didn't want to talk. She wanted to be mindless and only move, feel, be close to him. No matter what else lay between whenever they came together, the sex was always fantastic.
He was standing only a few inches away from her. She could feel the warmth of his body flowing, surrounding her. Yet she was still aware of violence held at bay. He looked into her eyes. 'Tell me.'
She slowly reached out and touched his bare chest. His skin felt fever-hot to her palm.
A shudder went though him. 'Eve.'
'I do want you.' She took a step closer and laid her cheek on his chest. His heart was pounding hard beneath her ear. 'I always want you, Joe. Stop worrying about being rough with me. I can take care of myself.'
